


Five Times Shawn Needs Cory, and One Time He Needs Jack

by Stisaac



Category: Boy Meets World, Girl Meets World
Genre: Bromance, Family Angst, Gen, to the extreme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 15:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6289738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stisaac/pseuds/Stisaac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack just wants Shawn to know that he cares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Five Times Shawn Needs Cory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a short break from my longer story because I wanted to explore Shawn's relationships with both Cory and Jack when they were a little bit younger. I should add that I am doing my best to keep everyone in character and everything in canon, but I'm still only in season two, so if anyone, particularly Jack (because he doesn't show up until season five I think?) or anything gets screwed up, just blame my inability to focus on 22 minutes of television. 
> 
> Anyway. I am intensely interested in the influence Cory and Jack have on Shawn's life because, obviously, they're his brothers. But in two very different ways, which make for really angsty head cannons. The thing is, Cory has been Shawn's best friend and brother for years and he knows Shawn better than anyone. Jack kind of gets thrown into Shawn's life, and I can only imagine what it might have been like for him. And there's a part of me that desperately wants him to be jealous of Cory for being closer to Shawn and being able to reach him when no one else can. I want him to feel overly responsible for this brother of his with a really messy life, and he just puts way too much on his shoulders so it makes him really sad when Shawn pushes him away and goes to Cory. And Shawn doesn't really mean anything by it, it's just that he's gone to Cory his entire life, so why should he do anything differently?
> 
> Anyway. I am going to stop explaining myself and see if I can let the story explain itself. So:

**1\. College.**

Jack does his best. He leaves pamphlets around the apartment. He talks to the guidance counselor about every possible option. He makes sure that Cory is applying to non-Ivy league schools. He encourages Shawn to get a tutor and even offers himself as one. He drops not so subtle hints about freedom and independence.

Looking back on it, the hints were painfully obvious and just as useless because Shawn has been pretty self-sufficient since he was eleven. But Jack thought that everything else worked well enough.

Shawn might as well be in a coma for as well as he responds to Jack. He doesn't notice the pamphlets, or maybe he does and he just chooses to ignore their existence. He hums non-committedly about the tutoring suggestion. He claims he doesn't know where the guidance counselor’s office is (which Jack refuses to believe because as stubborn as his half-brother is, he had to have landed there somehow with his crazy childhood).

It frustrates Jack to no end because he wants Shawn to have an opportunity to get far away from his past and make a better future for himself. His frustration is doubled because he, as Shawn's half-brother, should be able to have some sort of influence over him and be able to encourage him. They've been doing really well to.

Sure, they had gotten off to a start so rocky that Jack almost gets motion sickness just from thinking about it. But now they love together and talk regularly and Jack finds himself hoping more and more each day that they can have a normal relationship. That “half-brothers” can turn to “brothers”. That he won't have to walk on eggshells around Shawn and that Shawn might open up to him just a little bit. That Shawn will talk to him the way he talks to Cory.

There's absolutely no resentment that Jack holds for Cory Matthews. He'd die for the younger teen. Within a week after moving to Philadelphia and getting to know both Shawn and Cory, Jack knows that there's no way his brother would be alive if it weren't for his best friend. Shawn is a wildfire, burning out of control, destroying everything in his path, and terrifyingly self-destructive. Cory keeps him safely grounded in reality, tethered to this earth by unrelenting loyalty and a completely selfless love. And Jack loves Cory for it.

But he can't help but feel a little jealous. He tells himself that it makes sense. Shawn and Cory grew up together. Cory watched Shawn grow up the way he did. He has a gift for predicting what situations Shawn will be able to glide through and which ones will cause him to crash and burn. He knows what sets Shawn off and what calms him down. He knows what breaks him and what makes him whole again. Jack is convinced Cory could put Humpty Dumpty together again. He's everything a brother should be.

Everything Jack should be.

So when he comes home late at night to find Shawn studying with Cory, he feels the tiniest twinge of self-pity to accompany the much larger feeling of relief. “Hard at work?” he asks, his tone light and carefree.

“I have to be if I want to pass my classes and graduate,” Shawn says like it's obvious. “College is waiting for me, but it's not going to be waiting anymore if I don't get out of high school first.”

Just this morning, Jack had found his latest attempt, information packets from several area schools that he had personally requested, in the trash can. Now, it's eleven thirty at night and Shawn seems to have done a complete one-eighty. Cory glances up at him, his expression difficult to read. It falls somewhere between the grey area of hesitant and sympathetic, because he's apparently a mind reader now. The sympathy is just embarrassing and the hesitance is plain stupid, because Cory shouldn't feel that way about helping Shawn. After all, he's more Shawn's brother than Jack is.

“Topanga's going to be helping me too,” Shawn adds now, and Jack feels almost privileged to have acquired this knowledge. Talking about the Phillies with Shawn? Easy. Talking about the best pizza joints? Done. Girls? That was Shawn's favorite topic. He'd talk to complete strangers about girls. But college or anything serious about life? It was like pulling teeth. So as dumb as it is, Jack lets him feel a little victorious when Shawn tells him about Topanga.

“That's. . . cool,” he replies and winces. No wonder Shawn won't talk to him about anything important. He doesn't know how to talk back. All the heavy handed hints and clumsy encouragement must pale in comparison to Cory's. . . whatever Cory does.

Shawn is bent over his books, eyes darting back and forth between the text and his practically illegible scrawl of notes. Jack doesn't think he's ever seen him this focused. He can feel Cory still staring at him, silently asking “is this okay?”.

Of course it's okay. It's the best. Shawn wants to go to college. Jack has no idea what transpired between the two friends today and he doubts he'll ever find out. Unless he asks Cory. But that would be the ultimate humiliation. Going to his brother's best friend to find out about his brother.

“Cool,” he says again, nodding his head in answer to Corey's unasked question. “Um, so yeah. Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

“Uh-huh,” Shawn replies distractedly. He doesn't mean anything by it, but still hurts. Jack shoves it away, puts a smile on his face, because it's just the natural order of things. Shawn needs help, Cory helps Shawn. Jack can't expect to drop into his life halfway through high school and expect to be a part of that.

But he can still want to.

* * *

 

  
**2\. Father.**

Proof that Jack Hunter is actually a terrible person: Exactly half an hour after his father died, he found himself wondering if this was what could finally bring him closer to his brother. He wonders that this awful thing can be used for some good.

He didn't know Chet Hunter the way Shawn did. And now, he'll never have that chance. All he has is a bunch of stories and none of them are good. The rampant alcoholism and subsequent abuse. The selfishness and fear of responsibility and commitment. The inability to notice how he hurt everyone he left in his wake. He'll never get a chance to know how that feels for himself, but he sees what it's done to his mother. And Shawn. And he can't help but resent his father for leaving so soon after he waltzed back into his life, even if it wasn't his choice this time.

He thinks about all of this on their way home from the hospital. Shawn's quiet. He's quiet. Neither of them say a word. Jack finds himself fighting against tears for a father he didn't know, but Shawn looks frighteningly passive. By now, Jack has come to recognize this passiveness as Shawn code for, “Talk it out before it gets worse” but he still hasn't quite mastered the talking part.

They arrive back at the apartment without a single word exchanged between the two of them. Jack had no idea silence could be so deafening. He pauses when they get to the door, running a few conversation starter ideas through his head. “Are you okay?” That would be stupid. Anyone with half a brain would know that Shawn is far from okay. “Do you want to talk about it?” No. Jack already knows that Shawn has no desire to talk. He needs to, but he doesn't want to. “What now?” As the older brother, that is possibly the worst way to go about it. Jack is supposed to be the one who knows what to do now.

But he doesn't. He has no idea. Twenty years old and he finds himself the only family Shawn has left. He knows that's a big deal to Shawn. Shawn is obsessed with the concept of family, constantly comparing his life with Cory's, and knocking himself off his feet because he fell short of his own qualifications.

“Are we going in?”

Jack is jolted back to reality by the sound of Shawn's voice, dangerously quiet and calm. “What?” he asks distractedly.

Shawn gestures limply towards the closed door. “I don't have a key.”

Key. Jack snaps to attention and pulls the key out of his pocket. “Yeah. Sorry. Here, let me get it.”

Shawn just steps aside and lets him fit the key inside the lock, jiggling it around before it catches as is customary for the old apartment. They step inside and Shawn brushed past Jack, headed immediately for his bedroom.

Jack opens his mouth to say something. Anything. Except there's nothing to say. So he watches his brother’s back disappear down the hall. Listens to the sound of the bedroom door closing with an ominous click that's somehow louder than it would have been if Shawn had slammed it. He sighs and sinks down at the kitchen table, a heavy weight settling on his shoulders.

What is he supposed to do?

“There's nothing a good meal can't cure.” That's something his grandmother, his step-father’s mother, used to say. She always had food on the stove or in the oven when Jack was over his grandparents’ house. She said cooking cleared the mind, made everything easier, answered the tough questions. And when he was six years old, her big, chewy chocolate chip cookies, with the chocolate still warm and melty, really did make everything better.

Jack glances at the clock over the stove. It's almost eight at night and he hasn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Shawn hasn't either. Jack isn't the cook that his grandmother has, but he does know his way around the kitchen.

Opening the fridge and the cabinets he manages to scavenge enough items that might put together a decent meal. Chicken. Pasta. Broccoli. Milk and Parmesan cheese that he can mix for a sauce. Jack starts to feel better when he remembers that some of the better family discussions in his life happened over a nice, home-cooked meal. It has to be a step in the right direction for getting Shawn to come out of his shell.

In the back of his mind, Jack has nagging thoughts about what comes next in the more practical sense. There's a funeral to arrange, after all. It's going to be small, but he's not going to let his father go without a way to memorialize him. He has to call local churches, speak to their ministers, notify any friends who might care enough to come. He knows the Matthews clan and Topanga will be there, but he's not sure who else. Small. Simple, he tells himself. Don't worry about that right this instance. Think of Shawn.

He finds some useable garlic tucked away in a corner and breaks it open to sauté with the chicken. A comforting aroma fills the kitchen and Jack lets himself relax just a little bit. He starts to think once more of how to talk to Shawn. “You know I'm here for you, right? In case you want to. . . need to talk?”

That's a good one, he thinks, pleased with himself. Reassuring but not forceful. Gentle. Coaxing. Maybe he should use the “want to talk” instead of “need to talk”. It's even less forceful. He doesn't want to push Shawn too hard and have him push away all together.

“Tell me about Dad.”

That’s another good one, Jack decided. That's definitely one he can use. It's casual, but it's something he really wants to know. He has almost no idea what Chet Hunter was like. He knows a lot of bad stuff, but there had to have been some good stuff too, right? Otherwise Shawn really would be okay. And Jack wouldn't have a hole in his heart.

He wonders why it hurts so much. He hardly knew his father. It doesn't make sense that as soon as the doctor said, “We lost him” it felt like Jack had a piece of his heart ripped away forever. As far as he was concerned, he didn't really have a whole lot to lose. Here today, gone tomorrow. How can you care about someone when you haven't had time to get attached to them?

Maybe Shawn can help him figure that out. Maybe if they talk they can fill the holes, explain the sudden emptiness that Chet Hunter left in his absence. They'll figure it out. Together. They don't really have a choice. They have each other and that's pretty much it.

Part of Jack knows he's kidding himself this entire time. But he ignores it in favor of what makes him feel better. He lets the false confidence build and build inside him as the chicken cooks. He lets himself get ahead of things as he swirls the milk and cheese together, watching in satisfaction as a thick and creamy sauce is formed. Jack even thinks about this becoming the new normal.

Then he hears Shawn's bedroom door open.

“Shawn. Shawn!” The first time his brother's name leaves his lips, Jack can hardly hear himself and tries again. “Hey. I um, made dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Not really, no. Thanks though. You go ahead.” Shawn Isn't looking at him.

“Okay.” Jack's confidence starts to slip away at an alarming rate. Like grains of sand through his fingers. “Listen, I was thinking-”

He stops when he realizes that Shawn isn't listening to him at all. Shawn is wearing his leather jacket, has a duffel bag over his shoulder. He's sitting at the table, but it's so he can pull his shoes on and tie them. His brother's head is tilted down, hair falling over his face, but the glimpse that Jack catches is just enough to tell him everything he needs to know.

Shawn’s eyes are red. Shawn has been crying. The entire time Jack has been in the kitchen, cooking his stupid comfort meal for their dinner of brotherly bonding, his brother has been in his room crying. It's like a lunch to the gut and suddenly Jack is afraid that he's going to throw up.

Shawn stands up, eyes already on the door. “I'm headed out for the night,” he says flatly.

“Where are you going?” Jack demands, sounding desperate. But he knows. He knows before the words even leave his lips.

“Cory's house.”

Jack watches his brother leave for the second time that day and he wonders if he'll ever come back this time. He wonders if he lost his father and his brother in one day. He wonders how he could be so stupid and arrogant as to think that he could ever help Shawn. How he could assume that Shawn would want to talk to him in this first place.

Cory wouldn't have made dinner. Cory would have been knocking at the door, and if Shawn didn't open it, he would have sat outside in the hallway and talked to him through the closed door. Cory wouldn't have waited for Shawn to come to him, he would have gone to Shawn. The only reason he didn't show up at their apartment to help Shawn is because he probably assumed Jack was taking care of anything. Because if Cory Matthews has any faults, it's how he just assumes the best of anyone if he knows they have good intentions.

“Sorry, Cory.” Jack missed the opportunity when it was right in front of him. When he apologizes, it's not just for now, but for a lifetime of missed opportunities. “I'm sorry, Shawn.”

It's too late for Jack to have a relationship with his father and now he's wondering if it's too late for Shawn too.

* * *

 

**3\. Mother.**

“You know, you're a good brother.” Eric tells him shortly after they watch Shawn storm out of the Matthews’ home with Cory right on his heels.

Good brother. Like four years of knowing each other erases fifteen of ignorance. Like it erases the sin of Jack back pedaling at the first sign of Shawn getting ready to self-destruct while Cory throws himself without hesitation on top of the grenade that is his best friend. It should be Jack following him, not Cory. But it's always been Cory. Cory is the good brother. Not Jack. Jack and Shawn are half-brothers, related by blood and nothing more, while Cory and Shawn, despite not sharing a drop of DNA, are brothers through and through.

“If I were a good brother, I’d be the one going after him,” Jack replies. “Not Cory.”

Eric doesn’t know what to say to that. He just looks sympathetic, and that only serves to confirm Jack’s feelings on the matter. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” his friend finally whispers gently. He might as well have just said, “You’re still new at this.” Except he’s not that new. Not anymore.

“Jack, Eric is right,” Alan Matthews walks over to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Shawn opens up to Cory the way he does because Cory has been working to get past his walls for a decade now. It hasn’t been easy for him. It still isn’t. But he knows Shawn better than anyone and that’s no fault of yours.”

“I just,” Jack clenches and unclenches his hands into fists so tight that he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms. “I feel so powerless. All I want to do is help him and he won’t even let me near him. He doesn’t. . . he doesn’t trust me.”

“Shawn doesn’t trust many people. I think the only person he trusts instantly is Cory. He trusts you, Jack, just in the way that he trusts Amy and I. . . or Eric. He’s stubborn and tends to push away when things get rough. It’s just that, unfortunately, things are usually rough for him.”

Jack struggles to put what he feels into words. He’s afraid that admitting it will make it true. “I don’t want him to think that I don’t care about him. I know I haven’t known him as long as you guys have, but I’ve known him for long enough for him to start letting me in, haven’t I? What am I doing wrong?”

Eric is shaking his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he says firmly. “Jack, your brother is the second most stubborn person I’ve ever known. The only person more stubborn than he is, is my brother. Everything you see with Cory and Shawn took my brother years to get. It wasn’t always this easy. It still isn’t easy.”

He can tell they’re all genuinely trying to make him feel better, but it’s not working. Jack is restless and nervous on Shawn’s behalf. He’s not with him and even though he trusts Cory more than anyone else, Jack can’t relax until he sees his brother once again with his own two eyes. The pit in his stomach, twisting around until he gets nauseous is all too familiar and it frustrates him because he figured he would have learned to deal with it.

“Jack, you care about Shawn. He knows that. It’s all he asks.”

But why? Why doesn’t he ask for more? And why, that’s all he asks, then why does he constantly reject it? Jack hates that he doesn’t know the answer to any of these questions and he hates even more that everyone else seems to. When it comes to Shawn, it’s like he’s on the outside looking in at everyone else. “How. . . how long will it take?”

Alan just shrugs, looking as helpless as Jack feels. He can’t tell if that’s reassuring or not. “I wish I could tell you, Jack. You just have to be patient. There’s no rushing with Shawn. No immediate gratification. Now, I know that you have the purest intentions in regards to your brother. You love him and you want him to be happy. That’s enough. You’re enough.”

Shawn thinks that last statement is pretty far from the truth. When Shawn stumbled in, smelling like he has taken a bath in alcohol, Jack's helpful advice was, “You know you're not supposed to be drinking.” as he faked a smile to everyone watching. And when Shawn slurred on about being his “dude, buddy.” he could hear the rejection in his brother's voice. Like Jack was just disappointed in him. Shawn is used to having people disappointed in him and as he walked away, Jack was left with nothing but bitterness.

Shawn probably thinks Jack is ashamed of him.

Reeling from the realization, Jack walks out back by himself to get some fresh air. He waves off Eric's hesitant attempt to follow him, mumbling, “I need to be alone for a few minutes.” It's cold outside and he can see his breath in the night air. Stars twinkle overhead and somehow he can think more clearly.

Shawn almost definitely thinks that Jack, his brother, is ashamed of him. Ashamed is worse than being disappointed. Disappointed is finding out the chocolate chips inside that oatmeal cookie are actually raisins. Ashamed is looking down on someone and then looking away, elevating yourself above them. Saying, “Well, at least I'm not THAT screwed up.”.

“You know you're not supposed to be drinking.” Jack didn't mean to sound condescending. He didn't mean the nervous smile like he was trying to hide his brother from the people who know him better anyway. Inside he was panicking and he just handled it in the exact opposite way it should have been handled. Jack is the screwup. Not Shawn.

“I'm really sorry, Shawn,” he whispers as he shivers in the cold. “Please come home.”

* * *

 

 

**4\. Girlfriend.**

Angela leaves, and Jack tries not to think about how many times Shawn has had to watch the back of someone he loves as they walk away from him.

Angela leaves and breaks his brother's heart all over again. And again, Cory Matthews is the one who will pick up the pieces and put him back together again.

Angela leaves because Shawn loves her more than he loves himself. Although, Jack isn't so sure that's the greatest comparison, because he knows Shawn has so much trouble loving himself or believing he's worthy of being loved.

Angela leaves and Jack vows never to do the same, but even as he does, he can't help but wonder if Shawn would even miss him.

He stares at his brother's back, sees his stooped shoulders so tired from carrying the weight of the world. He wants to go to him, take some of that burden, and help him. He wants Shawn to know that he's not alone.

But Jack's feet are rooted to the floor, and even as these thoughts are going through his mind, Cory is taking those steps. Cory is crossing the floor, gripping Shawn's shoulders, announcing his presence and his support without words.

Shawn can live without Jack. Heck, he lived without him well into his teen years. He got pretty far all things considered. It's not like Jack has had a negative impact on his life, but he hasn't had a positive impact either. He's hardly had an impact at all. It's Cory Shawn can't live without.

Whether Shawn needs him or not, Jack has no intention of ever leaving his brother.

* * *

 

**5\. Career.**

“You're what?”

“Moving to New York! With Cory and Topanga!” Shawn is so genuinely happy and excited, something Jack didn’t think he would ever see again after Angela left. But now, here they are, not even a full twenty-four hours later, and Shawn isn’t even thinking about Angela.

“But. . . why? H-how?” Jack looks at Cory and Topanga for an explanation. “I mean, when?”

He's saying all of the wrong things. Shawn needs his support right now, he doesn't need him questioning everything. Jack bites his lip, also biting back every reason he questions this idea.

New York is so far away. At least it seems like it. Only yesterday, he was watching the love of his life exit stage left, for a year at the very least. Probably forever. He was devastated. Is devastated. Even though he's acting much happier now, Jack just has to glance at his brother to know he likely didn't sleep at all the night before. Jack had every intention of keeping a close eye on Shawn, waiting in the wings just in case Cory somehow couldn't be there for him. Just in case Shawn asked for him. Is it selfish that Jack never once thought it would be Shawn who would leave him?

Shawn doesn't seem to notice Jack's internal war. “As soon as we can find a place, we're outta here!” He laughs like he just can't believe it. Neither can Jack.

“Don't worry, Jack. I have a really solid possibility of having a job out there,” Shawn says, assuming Jack is only worrying about the practical things. “Writing. It's just grunt work for a publishing company, but-” Shawn claps his hands together, startling Jack. “it's a start.”

Cory and Topanga are looking at him, troubled. Jack does his best to smile for them. For Shawn. “That's great, Shawn. Really great. Wow.” He's trying his best to sound happy for Shawn. He really is happy. But he's also sad. And afraid.

This can go one of two ways. It can be the best thing possible for Shawn. It gets him out of Philadelphia, the place he grew up, and lets him start over with a clean slate. It gives him opportunities. The chance to finally live a life that isn't dictated by the curveballs life has always pelted him with growing up. It gives him a chance to move on. It gives him hope. It lets him chase his dreams.

But with hope, there also comes the ever present chance of Shawn being crushed with more disappointment. The higher he flies, the harder he falls sometimes. It's a risk, and it could pay off in unimaginable ways that mean a life of happiness for Shawn which is what he deserves. The greater the risk, the greater the reward, right? If it pays off. The “if” is what scares Jack the most. “Ifs” don't typically work in Shawn's favor.

“Hey,” Shawn is coming back down to earth enough to notice Jack's mix of emotions. “It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay, Jack. This is a fantastic opportunity and it's coming at a time when I thought I'd get stuck again.” He gives Jack a genuinely happy smile, eyes not yet fully clear of their grief, but beginning to brighten all the same.

“I know that,” Jack assures him. It's easier to smile now. “I do. I promise, Shawn. I just. . . I'm gonna miss you. All of you. But mostly you.”

The mess of words tumble out of his mouth in a humiliating way. But Jack doesn't feel too terrible for too long because Shawn's eyes lighten up even more with an idea and he grabs onto Jack's arm. “Hey!” he practically shouts. “Why don't you come with us? Eric too!”

Cory and Topanga relieved and enthusiastic all at the same time. Jack feels like he's the only one who isn't entirely onboard with this idea. On the surface, it seems perfect. He'll get to stay with Shawn and see firsthand how it all goes. There will be no missing involved. Jack is certain that Eric, even though they haven't brought it up to him, will be all in.

But something seems off. Jack is touched and a little surprised that Shawn thought of him coming along for the ride. He has no doubt that it's something that would thrill his younger brother it's something that would thrill him. Obviously because he would get to stay with Shawn, but also Cory and Topanga and probably Eric. Jack never goes a day without feeling overwhelming gratitude in knowing these people. He came to reconnect with his half-brother and wound up with another whole family. It's a gift that he'll never take for granted.

But as great as it sounds, Jack isn't convinced that it's what's best for him. Or Shawn. Not right now at least. It's difficult to put his finger on, maybe because he doesn't want to admit it to himself, but maybe he and Shawn need to go their separate ways. Maybe. . . to grow closer. . . they need to be apart. Maybe he'll just hold Shawn back from truly moving on.

He undeniably belongs to the ugliest part of Shawn's past. Chet Hunter served as a one link between the two of them while everything and everyone else simply served as a reminder of why they might never be able to really understand one another. Their selfish, sloppy, alcoholic dad was the bridge between privilege and poverty. Love and abandonment. Jack is more than happy to have reached the point in their relationship where they are now. He truly believes that Shawn trusts him and knows that he loves him. They've really grown close and even though it hasn't been easy, it's been the best time in his life.

But Shawn needs to move on and Jack needs to move on and he's beginning to think they're not headed in the same direction. They both have their own things that they need to figure out, but those things won't necessarily take them down the same path. It's conflicting because Jack has spent the better part of these years fighting for Shawn and trying to get close to him, and now he's thinking he has to let him go.

It's Angela that convinces him. Or rather, the thought of Angela. Shawn loved her so much that he was able to let her go to Europe for a year with her father. But it wasn't just Europe for a year with her father. Before Angela left, she asked Shawn not to say goodbye. She didn't want to admit that a year could turn into forever. That as much as they lived each other, forever just wasn't meant for them. But Shawn knew.

He knew that he might not be the best for Angela. That she might never reach her full potential if he stayed in her life. He knew that if she stayed, she would miss so many opportunities that were best for her. When Angela walked out the door and disappeared from view, Jack had heard his brother whisper a goodbye that broke his heart. Because Shawn was giving her up. Giving her the ultimate chance to go anywhere, do anything, become anyone. All with her father at her side. Because Shawn Hunter of all people, knew exactly how important it was to her.

Maybe Angela's Europe is Shawn's New York. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts four and five are supposed to run right he like they did, and even though one was really short and the other was a bit longer, I didn't want to try and split them up now evenly. Part four felt like a transition of sorts from Jack actively trying to be the one for Shawn to Jack accepting the way things are and being okay with that. Does that make sense?
> 
> Part six will be up sometime over the weekend. It's going to be about as long as all of these combined so I thought I could stretch the collective work into two chapters. After I finish this, I fully intend to get back to the other, longer story because I still have a lot of ground to cover with it. Questions? Comments? Concerns? Complaints? 
> 
> Once more, I know the timeline of these stories is more than likely screwed in regards to show cannon, but I promise I did my best! I'll be finishing season two as well this weekend so progress is being made. Thanks for reading!


	2. One Time Shawn Needs Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I take a lot of creative liberty with this one. As far as I know, all the information about Shawn’s birth mother is that she was a stripper and not that great of a person.  
> I expanded a little on that.

 

 

  
It happens on Shawn’s twenty-third birthday. Of course it does. If it had happened to anyone else, it wouldn’t have happened on their birthday. Then again, Jack thinks, it wouldn’t have happened to anyone period. Really, in hindsight, none of it surprises Jack. Except for one thing.

The surprise comes at the very beginning of the whole incident, when Jack hears a knock at his door. He frowns, setting aside his jacket. It’s absolutely pouring outside and he was just about to leave his apartment for Cory and Topanga’s place where they’re hosting Shawn’s surprise party. Stepping up to the door, he peers through the peephole, praying it’s not his landlord because he’s not quite ready to pay this month’s rent.

It’s Shawn. Looking like he just went swimming. In his clothes. Jack swings the door open and drags his brother inside. “Shawn!” He exclaims in surprise. “What are you doing here? You’re soaked, what happened?”

Shawn grins and points toward the window. “It’s raining,” he says. “I forgot my yellow rain jacket and matching hat.”

He’s joking, but there’s something incredibly off about him. Jack frowns as he studies his brother more intently. Shawn has dark circles under his eyes and seems edgy. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot and twisting his hands together like he can’t stand the thought of staying still. There’s a thinly veiled hint of desperation in his eyes and it makes Jack’s stomach twist into knots because he recognizes that look. Something has happened and it’s trying to drag Shawn back a million steps.

“Hey,” he says more softly, touching Shawn’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Shawn looks down at his feet and pulls something from the pocket of his leather jacket. “I got this in the mail today,” he tells Jack, holding it out for him to talk.

Jack hesitates before taking it, half expecting Shawn to rip it away before he can touch it. It’s an envelope, wet from the rain, the return address obscured. He glances at Shawn questioningly, but only receives a nod for an answer. He opens it slowly, sliding his finger under the already broken seal. “A letter?” He asks out loud, careful not to tear the sodden piece of paper as he draws it out.

“Read it,” Shawn tells him softly.

He doesn’t want to read it. Jack is afraid to take his eyes off of Shawn too long because he might not be there when he looks back up. He doesn’t want to read it because ignorance is bliss and if he never learns what the letter says, he can pretend everything's okay. But Shawn is asking him to read it, and Jack can’t refuse him.

So he unfolds the paper, taking a deep breath to loosen the ball of anxiety in his chest. Starts to read the letter, guessing at some words that the rain has blurred out.

_Dear Shawn,_

_This is the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write. I’ve written it over and over again in my head for two decades now, and I still don’t know what to say. I’ve thought about you and your father every day since I left._

“Shawn-”

“Just. . . read it. Please.” Shawn’s voice breaks and Jack looks up at him. “I don’t know how to talk about it, so you just have to read it.”

Feeling sick, Jack nods and forces his eyes back to the letter. He moves closer to his brother though, putting a hand on his shoulder in silent support. Though, he’s not quite sure if he’s doing it for his brother or for himself.

_I don’t know what your father told you about me. I don’t even know if he told you anything at all about me. For all I know, he found another woman and you grew up believing that she was your mother. It would be just like your father, protecting you from being hurt._

Ha.

_I was going to let you live without ever knowing about me. I was going to leave that up to Chet. If you ever heard about me, it would be his choice. I felt like I owed him that much after leaving him to raise you alone. But the other day, I ran into an old mutual friend of ours, someone you probably never met, who told me that your father passed away several years ago. I thought of you, and I thought I owed it to you and even myself to write this to you._

_It took me a while to find out where you live. I hope it’s okay._

Of course it’s not. Jack wants to throw up. Not a single part of this is okay. He needs to sit down. Dragging Shawn with him, he walks over to the island in the kitchen and sinks down onto one of the stools.

_I want you to hear, in my words, my own story, why I left. Not tainted by your father who was surely bitter or perhaps never even mentioned me. I can imagine that he most likely never mentioned me. He liked to pretend that everything was as close to perfect as possible. If something was wrong, he just pretended that it didn’t exist. So I’ll bet anything he pretended I didn’t exist._

Like father, like son. Jack wants to pretend that this letter doesn’t exist. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore that against all reasoning, every word is true. It’s clearly written by someone who knew Chet Hunter. Jack can just barely hang onto the idea that maybe, just maybe, that the writer is just lying about who she is.

_I left because I was afraid. I was afraid of staying. I was afraid of being a mother. I knew that I would mess it up. Mess you up. I just didn’t have it in me._

Chet Hunter didn’t have it in him to be a father. As much as Shawn will try to defend him, Jack can’t look at his brother and believe that their father didn’t screw up in massive, dangerous ways. But he had good, albeit a little selfish, intentions. It’s not a case of, “If he really loved and cared about Shawn he would have stayed”. It’s a case of, “He loved Shawn and he just made more bad decisions than good ones.” And a huge part of Jack will always resent him for not just almost destroying Shawn, but for hurting him too. And his mother. He could have done a lot better.

But he could have done worse. This is worse. Much worse.

_It wasn’t you or even Chet, it was me._

In Jack’s experience, that’s consistently the laziest apology possible. It’s an easy, thoughtless, unfeeling way to shrug off responsibility for hurting someone. It’s not at all genuine.

_I enclosed this picture because I realize that this letter may find you in a state of disbelief. You have no reason to believe I am who I claim to be. I also wanted you to see that I kept this with me for all these years. Thinking of you and hoping that you turned out all right. I want you to know that every time I looked at it, I thought of you._

Jack looks up at Shawn, caught off guard to find his brother actually looking back at him. He finds his expression impossible to read so he just asks, “Picture?”, in a voice that shakes more than he’d like to admit.

Wordlessly, Shawn puts a hand back in his pocket and this time he takes out a 4x6 photograph, wrinkled from being folded up. His hand trembling, Jack reaches for it, forcing his fingers to close around one corner. He turns it over slowly.

The woman in the photograph is drop dead gorgeous. Tall and slender with honey colored hair that falls just past her shoulders in perfect waves. Her lips are plump and red, teeth white and straight. Her eyes. . . Jack looks back up at Shawn. Swirls of blue and specks of brown mixing together in some kind of hazel. Their father had blue eyes.

Speaking of their father. . . he’s there too. Standing next to this beautiful, mysterious woman who looks like he’s on top of the world. They look happy together, Jack thinks. The two of them and a tiny little boy about a year old with an unreasonably shiny mop of brown hair and eyes identical to the woman’s. Jack swallows hard and hands the picture back to Shawn before continuing on with the letter. He’s resigned to the monster at the end of this book.

_You were such a happy baby. You never cried and when you were only a month old, you started sleeping straight through the night. I left because I wanted your smile to be my last memory of you. I didn’t want to see that light in your eyes die when you realized I wasn’t everything you deserved._

Jack feels something akin to anger start to replace the dread. He has to fight back a quiet rage to keep from tearing up the letter right then and there. What does this woman possibly know about watching the light die in a loved one’s eyes? She sure as hell has no idea that when that happens, or even when it might happen, you don’t run in the opposite direction. You stay.

_I left shortly after this picture was taken. It was one of the few things that I brought with me to Vegas because I couldn’t stand to part with you. And now, here I am, nineteen years later. . ._

Nineteen years. She’s either terrible at math or she has no idea how old Shawn actually is. Jack knows it’s the latter.

_. . . writing to you, my son, to let you know the truth. I never meant to hurt you or Chet, I just knew in my heart that I was better off by myself. I was never meant to be a mother or a wife in a little cottage with a white picket fence. I was never meant to stay at home and clean, wear an apron and cook an apple pie. I was never meant to chase away bad dreams or kiss a skinned knee. I didn’t want any of that. I didn't mean to abandon you, and I'm sorry if you feel that way._

As if not wanting something automatically makes it okay to just walk away. Jack is clenching the letter so tightly that a tiny tear appears in the upper right corner. Shawn doesn’t say anything, but Jack forces himself to loosen his grip just a little bit.

_I found some of your journalism work. I’m so thankful that you found a path that seems to bring you such joy. I can tell how much you enjoy your work, just by reading it._

And if she actually knew Shawn, she wouldn’t have had to read anything to know about his love of writing. She would have known that it was more than something he just enjoyed. It was his escape. His passion. When Shawn discovered his love of words, it opened up something inside of him that gave him a freedom he so desperately needed. She would have known that if she had stuck around.

_I’m so proud of your success. Traveling the world, meeting so many people, and experiencing so many things that others will never know. You’ve made a name for yourself despite your good for nothing parents. I’m grateful you’ve reached a place in your life where you’ll never have to worry about money or making a living._

_Which brings me to the other reason I write this letter._

And this must be the other shoe, finally getting dropped.

Jack tries to read the next paragraph, but his quiet anger turns steadily into a blinding rage and it’s not because of the damp lettering that makes it almost impossible. “She’s. . .” he feels breathless like he just spent the last few minutes underwater and has only emerged now. His fury is fresh air and he’s gulping on it, breathing it in like a lifesource. “She’s asking you for money.”

“It seems as though she’s having trouble keeping a job these days,” Shawn finally speaks but there’s no discernible emotion in his voice. “After a couple of arrests for petty theft and trespassing. She would have made a great addition to the family if you ask me.”

Jack inhales. Blinks a few times. Focuses.

I made a couple of bad choices here and there, and I have nowhere else to turn. I wouldn’t be writing this letter to you now if I had anyone else, but that fact is. . . I don’t.

“I thought she was writing to apologize,” Jack hears himself say. And even that apology was as fake as any apology he’s ever heard. Or in this case, read.

Shawn laughs a weird, breathy kind of laugh that sounds suspiciously like he’s trying hard not to cry. “So did I. Granted, I didn’t really believe it, and now I know that she was just trying to get around to her real motive, but still.”

You seem to have so much, Shawn, and it seems only fair that you can share some of it with me. I am, after all, family. You’re all I have, and as far as I know, I’m all you’ve got. I’m not asking for much. Just enough to get by. And after that, you’ll never hear from me again. I promise-

Jack can’t help it. He crumples up the paper and throws it as savagely as possible, only to watch it land harmlessly in the corner with a pathetic little thud. “Shawn-” he says, hating the way his voice betrays him. He's supposed to be supportive, but he has no idea what to right now.

“Remember when we tried to find her? I guess she hid herself well enough that she couldn't be found until she needed something.” Shawn is staring at the crumpled up letter like he can still see the words written on it.

“You know I love you, right?” The words pop out of Jack's mouth as if it's the most natural thing in the world. And, it is.

Sitting with his elbows on the counter top, Shawn buries his face in his hands. His back is a rigid line, so tense that Jack is afraid he might snap his brother in two just by touching him. “The funny thing is that I'm not nearly as well off as she thinks I am. ” His laugh is completely devoid of any humor.

“Shawn,” Somewhere deep inside of him, Jack finds the strength to speak again. He clears his throat. “Shawn, look at me.”

He's surprised when it actually works. Shawn lifts his head from his hands and turns to him. His eyes are turning red and glistening from tears he refuses to let fall.

Jack touches his shoulder. “I'm not going anywhere,” he promises. “Ever. I hate that this happened to you more than anything else, but I just want you to know that I love and care about you, and I'm so glad that we're brothers.” He points with his free hand at the letter. “You don't deserve any of that.”

Shawn is shaking under his hand. “Her name is Mary Jordan. She lives in Texas right now. She's asking for money so she can impress her new boyfriend with a birthday trip to Switzerland.”

He's never been so angry in his life and it scares him. Jack doesn't know how to handle this feeling like he's in control by the thinnest of threads. He wants to turn around and put his fist through the wall and then set fire to that stupid letter. He wants to set fire to the whole world right now.

“She said she's willing to meet up with me and get all the right testing done if I don't believe her,” Shawn goes on. “I kind of wish she just asked me straight out for the money. Instead of building up with all that fake emotion. I wish she never pretended to care about me. The worst part is that she said it was for this dude’s birthday next month and said that she would be thinking of me the entire time because it was my birthday too.”

Jack thinks of the miscalculated years. So she doesn't remember when Shawn's birthday is either.

“Happy Birthday to me, right?” Shawn mumbles, glancing down. There's a stain from a coffee mug in front of him and distractedly he begins tracing his finger around the ring.

Jack is at a loss for words. Everything he wants to say is too cruel and spiteful and not at all helpful to Shawn right now. He bites back the poison, letting it settle. Now is not the time.

He feels Shawn's shoulder move as his brother sighs deeply. “I'm sorry.”

Jack looks at him, startled. “What are you sorry for?”

Shawn gives him a half smile. “For dumping this on you. For drowning in self-pity. It's not your problem. It's mine.”

Patience, Jack tells himself. Don't turn your anger on Shawn. “Shawn,” he begins slowly. Quietly. “This isn't just your problem. It's mine too. Because you're my brother. Whatever messes with you. . . that's very much my problem.”

“I'm -” Jack bites his lip, struggling for the right words. “I'm so angry right now that I can hardly see straight.” Maybe it's just better to be honest. “I don't think I've ever been so angry in my whole life. And sad. I'm sad too. I'm angry for you and I'm sad for you. Angry because this whole mess is so unfair and wrong in every possible way. Angry that I can't do anything about it. And I'm sad because I just can't stand to see you hurting like this. No one should hurt like this. And you're my brother.”

Shawn is staring at him intently, hanging onto his every word. Jack swallows nervously, having no idea if he's saying anything right, but presses on. “She had no right to send this letter to you. As far as I'm concerned she has no right to have anything to do with you at all. Not after leaving you for your whole life.” He stabs a finger at the letter in the corner. “And that right there? That's emotional abuse, Shawn. That's manipulation at its finest. She acted like leaving you was the best thing she could have done for you. She placed the responsibility of hurting you on everyone but herself. That “it's not you, it's me” excuse is what people use when they don't want to feel guilty anymore. It's selfish. She's selfish. She tried to make you feel sorry for her and then she brought out what she was really after all along.”

Shawn flinches which makes Jack stop talking. “Jack,” his brother says slowly. “Don't you think you're being a little hard on her? I mean, she admitted that she screwed up, right?”

“Shawn. . .” Jack drums his fingers against the counter, trying to relocate all of his pent up frustration into the motion. “You can admit something without feeling sorry for it. That bit about her being sorry if you felt like she abandoned you? That's another part that upsets me. That's a lazy apology. It's not even an apology. Not only is she refusing to take any blame or responsibility for her actions, she's forcing them all on you. Like it's your fault she broke your heart because you let yourself care. I can't stand any part of this. She victimized herself and that's the worst part about all of this.”

“What about the picture?” Shawn asks desperately. “Why would she have held onto this for all these years if she didn't really care?”

“Because she liked the idea of you,” Jack says, wishing he could say virtually anything else. “If she really cared, she would have stayed. Leaving wasn't “for the best”. She just took the easy way out. Nothing good in this life comes easily. You have to fight. If she cared, she would have fought.”

He feels like his rage is about to boil over, but he makes one more attempt to swallow it and by some miracle he succeeds. “Listen,” he says, voice tight with control. Shawn looks up at him. “None of this is your fault. None of it.”

Shawn sniffs and wipes in embarrassment at his eyes. “I-I know,” he says, not at all convinced.

“Shawn?” Jack peers closely at his brother, forcing him to hold his gaze. “None of this is your fault.”

“Jack,” Shawn looks confused. “I know that.”

“Do you believe it?” For some reason, there's a difference. And it's important.

Shawn hesitates before answering. “I want to,” he says honestly.

“The only right and good thing this woman ever did in her life was have you.” Jack feels tears start to stab behind his eyes and he hates himself for the moment of weakness. Not now. Shawn needs him.

But to his surprise, Shawn actually laughs. And it sounds real this time. It's still quiet and small but it's real. “Thanks, bro,” he says, wiping at his eyes again.

“It's not your fault,” Jack says for the third time. “It's all on her. All of this.”

He hates her. He really does. Hate is such an awful, venomous feeling. It scares Jack. By losing Shawn scares him more. “Shawn,” he says quietly. “I can't force you to do anything. I can't tell you what to do. You're an adult. I promise I'll support you in whatever decision you make.”

Shawn hesitates. “But?” he guesses.

Jack chews on his bottom lip until he tastes blood. “But I can try to give you advice. And I really, really, really hope that you tear that letter up and burn the pieces left over. I really hope you don't write back or send that woman a dime. I really hope that you don't go anywhere because I can't stand the thought of losing you like that.”

Shawn looks stunned. “I'd never leave,” he says like he can't believe the thought even entered Jack's mind. “Why would I leave? For her?”

Jack just shrugs. “I can see it,” he admits. He can. All too clearly. He can see Shawn opening himself up for more heartache and disappointment. More abandonment. He can see Shawn just doing it because he's selfless. “I can see it and it scares me because you deserve so much better than her.”

Shawn looks down at the counter again. Traces the coffee stain. “She mentioned how she might be all I have left,” he reminds Jack. “And I think that was the worst part about it. She couldn't be more wrong.”

She was equally wrong about everything in Jack's opinion but he doesn't tell Shawn that. Instead he questions him in genuine curiosity. Yeah? Why that part?”

“Because,” Shawn's eyes are thoughtful. “I have you. And Cory and Topanga and the Matthews. I was never alone and I'm not alone now.”

“You'll never be alone, Shawn.” Jack promises. “We'll always be here for you. And that's what you deserve.”

Shawn stands up and walks over to the letter. Jack forces himself to stay where he is and just watches. Shawn bends down and picks the letter up. He looks from the letter to Jack. Back at the letter. Back at Jack. Smiles for real. “I know.” And Jack knows he's telling the truth.

He tosses the letter in the sink. Turns on the garbage disposal. “It's no fire, but will that be good enough.”

Jack's personal preference of destruction is still fire, but the letter is gone and that's what counts. “I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Shawn doesn't say a word. Just crossed the room back to Jack, and gives him a big hug. Jack is all too happy to reciprocate, holding onto his brother so tightly that he's sure they're both breathless. It doesn't matter though. Shawn feels safe now. Away from the edge. He's going to be okay. Jack knows this.

“Thanks for fighting for me.” Shawn says as they back away. “You could have left, especially at the beginning or at every time in the middle when I got stuck. But you never did. You were always there. You and Cory, and everyone else in my life.”

He can't help but ask. “Why did you come to me then? And not Cory?”

“I came to you because you're my brother,” Shawn says as if it's the most obvious, simple thing in the world. “Because if my mother had stayed with Dad, then I probably would have still grown up in a trailer park in Philadelphia with Cory Matthews as my best friend. But I have never met you. I probably would have never found out I had a brother.”

“I. . . I don't understand,” Jack says, because he truly doesn't.

Shawn is patient though. Thoughtful. “Dad told me about you because I said I wished I had a brother like Cory. Because until I was ten and I found out about you, it was just Chet Hunter and Son. And I wanted something more. If my. . . mother stayed, she and Dad might have had more kids. And I'd never know what I was missing. I never would have written all those letters.”

“All those letters I never read,” Jack grimaces.

“All those letters you never even saw,” Shawn reminds him. “The point is that since I grew up thinking I had so little when it came to family, I went looking for more. And I found you.”

“Yeah, but. . . either way, like you said, you'd still have Cory probably.” Jack points out. “You can't miss something if you don't know you have it.”

Shawn doesn't look convinced. “Maybe. But my life is significantly better with you in it. Jack, I love Cory. I don't know what I would have done without him. But I love you just as much and I'm sorry if it doesn't seem like that.”

“No, no, no!” Jack tries to backtrack hastily. “I know that, Shawn.”

“Do you?” Shawn fires the words back at him. “Do you believe it? I need you just as much as I need Cory.”

Jack wonders if it's completely childish to feel good about it. He's only ever wanted Shawn to know how much he cares and now that he does, it's such a weight off his shoulders.

“Cory got me to where I am because we've known each other our whole lives.” Shawn gestures at himself. “I'm a work-in-progress, Jack. I'm really screwed up.”

As much as Jack wishes Shawn would stop saying that, it doesn't quite have the typical self-deprecating ring to it this time. It's a fact. As much as Jack wants to pretend that Shawn is okay, maybe that's what always held him back in the first place. In the past, he was always so focused on fixing Shawn for the long run that he forgot to acknowledge the present problems. Or he'd be confronted with a problem and panic. Cory knew he was a screw up and that was how he could predict him so well. That was how he could handle him with such care.

“But you're here now and I'm sorry it took us this long to get to this point,” Shawn tells him quietly. “But it was worth it to me and I want you to know that I was thankful for you every one of those days, even when it didn't seem like that. I wish I showed you more, but I promise I will from now on.”

Jack can only nod and squeak out an emotional laden “Okay.” before hugging Shawn close to him again.

Shawn feels whole to him now. Complete. Like the final piece to his chaotic life was finally put into place and everything is going to be okay because the picture is complete. Shawn feels complete and it makes Jack feel complete too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really like this and I hope you did too. It's something I actually feel a little proud of and that's a big deal for me. Also I'm just thrilled for Shawn and Jack. I feel like it provided them both with some closure. Shawn's is obvious because he realizes that family is made up of the people who surround you and love you. But I feel like a big part of Jack's identity is comparing himself to Cory and consequently needing to hear that he's just as important in Shawn's life. I don't know. That's just a thought I had and now that thought is complete. And I am satisfied. Is it perfect? No. But I'm happy. Because Cory and Shawn are my favorites but I want to shower Jack with love and affection as well so he doesn't get lost in the shuffle. 
> 
> Anyway. Now that this is over and done with, I'll get started on wiring more of my longer story. But I still have one-shot ideas so I'll switch back and forth so I don't get stuck on anything. Okay? Okay. Enjoy the day!!


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